


Out of Gaskarth

by funghoulhasbeenpartypoisoned



Category: All Time Low
Genre: M/M, Please Proceed With Caution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1964778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funghoulhasbeenpartypoisoned/pseuds/funghoulhasbeenpartypoisoned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When two closeted gay punk boys meet, shit gets fluffy. I think...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Daydream Away

Jack's POV  
Ugh, work is so fucking boring. No customers today. Just me, sitting behind the messy counter of Punk Junk Records, messing with my hair and reading an old copy of Kerrang! Magazine. Some music is playing in the background. I take a second to listen-it's Pierce the Veil. Song called King For A Day. Pretty fucking good song. My high school buddy Vic and his brother are in the band. We hang out on the weekends when I'm not "working." I wish I had a band to be in. I used to write songs and play them with my friend Rian, but I gave up hope pretty fast. "Um, excuse me?" I look up, startled to see a customer, and nearly fall off my stool. Jesus fucking Christ. This kid is just, damn. He looks at me expectantly, his gorgeous eyes scanning my body. I self-consciously look down, remembering that I'm wearing my favorite Blink-182 shirt. Thank god I'm behind a counter so he can't see how tight my pants are feeling. Jesus, Jack, he's too hot for you. And he's probably straight. Dammit. "I really like Blink," the boy says, startling me again. His voice is deep and pretty damn hot. "M-me too," I stutter out, my cheeks flushing. Get yourself the fuck together, Jack. Of course you like Blink. Idiot. "Um, well, I'm looking for some new music to listen to. Anything to suggest?" I'm mesmerized by the boy for a moment, unable to answer. His hair is a beautiful brown, kind of coppery and chestnut at the same time. "Um, sorry, what?" God, I'm such an idiot. "Oh, I just wanted some ideas for new music to listen to, since you look like you know a lot about punk rock, " he smiles again, and I fall in love a hundred times over. Ugh, this is not fucking punk of me. Jack, you gay idiot. Hm, new music? I get up, adjusting my black jeans carefully to hide my attraction. I walk over to the left wall, where I keep some of my favorite records. The boy follows me. His way of walking is unlike anything I've seen. It's amazing. Jack, dammit, gay, gay, gay. "Here, sir-" He laughs, cutting me off. "Sir, my fat ass. My name's Alexander William Gaskarth." Well, Alexander William Gaskarth, you are a hot piece of shit. " Well, Alexander William Gaskarth-" The hot boy cuts me off again, this time placing his hand over my mouth. Jesus. Hot and sassy? I am currently rendered too gay to function. "Call me Alex," he says, his sexy eyes full of laughter, and his long (and sexy) fingers still over my mouth. "Well, Alex," I say into his hand. He moves his hand and shoves it in the pocket of his skinny jeans. Damn. "Do you like Panic! at the Disco?" I ask, my eyes struggling to stay on his face. He shakes his head, causing his coppernut (coppery chestnut?) hair to flop around. So in love right now. I pull a record off of a shelve. It's Panic!'s first album. "A Fever You Can't Sweat Out," I tell Alex. He takes it from me gently, his hand brushing mine. I gulp. I'm so fucking gay but Alex doesn't seem to notice. He's looking at the record. With another sexy smile, he hands it back to me. "Looks cool, sir, I'd like to buy it." Sir? "I'm Jack, not sir, and that'll be $1.99." "But the sign said $3.50, Sir Jack." Sir Jack? What am I, a knight of the gay table? "Take it for free, goddammit." Alex laughs, and I lose it. "Um," I begin nervously, "youseemreallycoolwannahangoutsometimemaybegooutsomewhereohnevermindsorry," I say quickly. I shove the record into his hands and run into the storage room and shut the door. I look through the tiny window. Alex is standing still, then he hoists his tall self over the counter, and slips a folded piece of paper under the door. I flush as I watch him smile and leave the store. I slide down the wall, relieved and sad simultaneously. I pick up the paper and start to unfold it.


	2. I Feel Like Dancin'

Alex's POV-  
Day's been long. I'm tired. I'm bored. I decide to run to the mall to find some new music. I walk around, getting looks of awe from girls. I'm so fucking tired of girls. I like boys, and I want to yell it out every time a girl gives me her number, but I don't. After a few minutes of searching, I find a store that looks interesting. Punk Junk Records. I walk in and hear Pierce the Veil playing. I had a friend once, Jaime, and he plays in that band. I love their music, and I love this store already. I go over to the counter, which is cluttered. I stop dead in my tracks. Sitting behind the counter in a Blink-182 shirt, reading Kerrang!, is the most amazing boy I've ever seen. He's fucking gorgeous. He has hair that makes him look like a hot skunk. Most of his hair is dark brown but he has streaks of blond in the middle. I can't stop staring at him. Finally, I get my gay self together and say, "Um, excuse me?" The boy startles and nearly falls off his seat. Aw, he's shy. I'm too gay for this. Why do the hot ones have to be straight? I love him anyway. "I really like Blink," I say, trying to make conversation. He smiles and mutters, "Me too." His. Fucking. Voice. It's beautiful. It has this husky and amazing sound and I can't take it. He's said two words to me and I already want to take him into my bedroom and close the door. "Um, well, I'm looking for some new music to listen to. Anything to suggest?" I sound like an idiot. A gay idiot. Ah, dammit. "Um, what?" he says, flustered. I smile. "Oh, I just wanted some ideas for new music to listen to, since you look like you know a lot about punk rock, " I say, my smile widening. He smiles back. His smile is so gorgeous, too. This boy is like a god. He gets up and walks over to a corner with shelves full of records. "Here, sir-" I laugh as he points to a shelve of assorted records. "Sir, my fat ass. My name's Alexander William Gaskarth." Did I really just give him my full name? I must sound like I'm some flirty gay. Oh god. Mr. Sexy Punk Boy giggles. "Well, Alexander William Gaskarth-" he starts, but I put a hand over his hot mouth. He lets out a breath and I feel it on my skin. Right now I want to feel his breath all over my body. Alex! Stop fantasizing about punk boys with hot skunk hair. "Call me Alex," I say, laughing. "Well, Alex-" I move my hand away from his face and into my pocket, "-Do you like Panic! at the Disco?" I haven't heard of them, so I shake my head, hoping to hear more of the boy's sexy voice. He looks through some records on the shelf, and I try not to stare at his ass. Sexy punk boy holds out a record and I take it, making sure to touch his hand. Somehow the simple brushing of hands sends a bolt of feeling into my pants. "A Fever You Can't Sweat Out," he says. That's what he's giving me. I look over the album and decide I want it. I also want him. ALEX. You fucking gay ass punk idiot. I'm too gay and not punk enough right now. I swallow my gay and say, "Looks cool, sir, I'd like to buy it." I'm nervous and I think it shows in my fidgeting. He doesn't seem to notice and continues to be sexy as fuck. "I'm Jack, not sir, and that'll be $1.99." I smile but look back at the sign, faltering a bit. "But the sign said $3.50, Sir Jack." "Take it for free, goddammit." I laugh. What's going on? I'm confused and also quite distracted by the hot boy standing awkwardly and sexily in front of me. Before I can say anything he blurts out what sounds like "youseemreallycoolwannahangoutsometimemaybegooutsomewhereohnevermindsorry." I blush. Am I dreaming? Jack, aka Mr. Sexy Punk Rock Demon Who Is Giving Me A Fucking Boner, suddenly shoves the record into my hands-another bolt-and runs into the storage room of the store. I stand still, debating whether or not to slip my number under the door and pray for gay. After a brief moment, I vault over the counter and slip some paper under the door. Smiling widely and fantasizing about Jack touching me, I walk out of the store. I check the time. Jesus fucking Christ. I spent 30 minutes in there being awkward and falling in love with a hot skunk boy named Jack. I know where I'm going tomorrow.


End file.
